Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or its characters; that right belongs to Hiro Mashima. I do own the Original Characters (OC's) and ask that you do not use them without at least asking for permission first. Please respect this as I am possessive of my OC's and don't share as easily as other authors.
Author's Note: This story was written after having a particularly bad nightmare and talking with a friend about it. They suggested that I do this to help work through the nightmare and my phobias. One is lepidopterophobia, or the fear of butterflies. And the other is Mottephobia, or the fears of Moths. These are only two. And like any fear there is a legit reason for it, one I do not care to share.
Lucy raised a hand and brushed her sweat and dirt soaked hair from her forehead. When she had grabbed the mission to go exploring, she had not thought her team would… invite… themselves along. They were not known for their delicate nature, or even ability to document in a rational and logical manner. But at that moment she was really happy that they were there. Because if they were not she knew she'd be dead. They'd stumbled across a Dark Guild that was very interested in this particular set of ruins that their employer had wanted documented and mapped out. Hell, she didn't even know what the ruins contained, and their employer had not been very forthcoming about it either. Leaving a rather bad taste in her mouth.
But half the reward was given up front upon taking the mission. So, she couldn't back out of it. Sighing as she shifted her gaze over to where there was the smell of smoke and pained screams. Seeing Natsu doing his best to not bring the damn place down on their heads. Making her happy internally. Turning her head again, she saw both Erza and Gray fighting back to back and taking out several of the dark mages with sweeps of either their magic or weapons. With a small pained nod of her head, Lucy looked forward and crawled on hands and knees. Doing her best to keep from hissing aloud as the rubble and debris on the floor embedded itself into her already ripped open knees.
One thing Lucy knew she had to do was get to the ring leader who, she hoped, was in the next ante chamber. Had to see what they were doing and hopefully stop them. And moving as slowly as possible to not attract the attention of those fighting around her. It was not an easy feat, but damn it, she was going to do this. After that year of separation from the guild. Dealing with the hurt, pain of loss on many levels, she had made herself stronger. She didn't need her teammates to 'always' protect her. No, she was a damn capable mage in her own right. Hell, she was the first mage in over four hundred years to be able to do the Star Dress equip. A thing that had made Yukino very jealous of her.
Inhaling through her nose, Lucy shuffled a few more feet forward. Stopping and exhaling to relax her body. The entrance to the ante chamber was roughly five feet from her. She could technically lay down and stretch out and be able to see around the corner. But that would not be productive if she had to get into the room and impede the leader of this little wannabe cult. With another quick glance to her teammates, who she now had a clear view of. Lucy watched and waited for a few seconds. Her body feeling small thrumming pulses coming from inside the ante chamber.
Building up her nerves, Lucy pushed herself to the edge of the doorway, again moving at a snail's pace. Then peaked around. What she saw had the blood in her veins both freezing and feeling as if it was liquid fire. And she knew how hot fire could burn, her best friend was constantly on fire, in the literal sense. Eyes going wide as her body moved on its own. Every instinct she had screamed at her to make that dark mage stop. That this was wrong on many, many levels. There were runes all around the room. Half of them were faded, cracked and broken. While others were very clear and glowing with the magic that was being gathered.
"Oh, come forth warrior. Step through the bounds of time and space. Heed my call. Come and serve me!"
A soft whine came from the back of Lucy's throat as she felt the presence of her spirits. But she didn't call them as she stepped into the room. Causing the active runes to flare with a brighter light. A golden light that pulled at her magic. Sucking it from what little reserves she had left in her origin containers. The moment the mage, who was definitely male, turned and looked at her. Rage in his dark eyes as he continued with whatever ritual was being done to summon someone or thing from another world to serve.
The sound of her name being screamed was muffled as if it was background noise, unimportant. Her body kept moving forward, thrumming in time with the magic. She knew she was snarling at the mage, how she knew, she was not sure. Though Lucy knew that if she survived this she would be examining everything very closely. Then as she drew near, she threw herself at the mage. Body exhausted as she felt the last of her magic being pulled from her. Her hands connecting with the mage, shoving him away as he yelled in rebellion to her interference. Then there was a brilliant glow of silver and gold, washing over her field of vision. Then she felt as if she was first pulled, then falling as she lost consciousness.
He was not happy. His people, their world was being torn apart by war and strife. And to make matters worse, there was nothing he could do. So, as he floated across the ground, not letting his feet touch the blood spattered dirt, heading where his 'leader' had directed him. Pain filled his chest as he looked all around. So many of their brethren had died. Defying the false leader. Many had looked to him to take his place as the leader of their people and their world. But he had not been through his final metamorphosis. No, the last time he had gone through the cocoon stage he'd come back out like he was now. Stuck as pel'eitr. His body was that of a mature Asi'thiel, tall, muscular like an adult, but still covered in the soft fuzzy fur of a youngling.
He had a theory of that was. But to speak it would mark him as a heretic. Giving a reason, unfounded and without proof, for their liege to murder him. He was the last of the original monarchies blood. Had been a youngling of only 24 seasons, when the war had started. His people, all peaceful or so they had thought, betrayed by one who was trusted. One who lusted after his late mother and killed for the power to be the ruler.
The site of the ancient ruins. One steeped in legends and lore so old, that most had been forgotten or lost to time and age if there was actual written documents. A small smile appearing on his lips as he recalled the first time he had been brought here. It had been for his first turning… His mother's tribe they were the keepers of the lore of this place. And powerful for it. Each youngling that belong to the tribe was brought here, their turning done in the ancient chambers were they were given their gift, power and abilities would be assessed. But most importantly, that the general populace was not told, a divine prophecy. He had been confused about his own that was given.
His mother had cautioned him, as had the elders of the tribe, to not speak of it to anyone. It had made them confused and scared. Which didn't help him at that point either. In fact, he had tried to smother his own gift, downplay his powers and abilities. A thing that had proved futile when he had lost control from lack of trying to master them. Demolishing half of the palace gardens. Leaving him lying in a crater that was caused by his own Psychic blowout. No one had been killed, or even harmed. But it had brought him into the limelight as the next ruler and a powerful one. Shortly after… well… they were all betrayed and he was kept alive as a slave and tool.
Floating for a few seconds as he chanted softly, knowing no one was near him. Only those of the tribe could come near and enter. Others were killed. The ancient magic that protected this place was powerful. His mother's tribe worshipped nature, the moon, the sun, and the stars. For they were all encompassing. Frowning as the door slid open and a strong wash of magic hit him, he flew into the dark hallway. Knowing that he needed to get to the central Ante Chamber. Something had activated the magic. And it felt wrong.
As he flew down the halls, the bioluminescent fungus lit up at his passing. He heard the soft calls of the voices of his ancestors telling him to hurry. All while his subconscious had his instincts riled and railing. His blood thrumming through his veins as he rounded the last corner and stood before the giant doors that were inlaid with precious stones and metals. Lifting his hand, he pushed with his mind. Soon a loud creak of protest was heard before the doors swung open. Just to blind him with the brilliant gold, yet pale silver twist of light that spilled out.
Becoming cautious, he landed on the ground and padded into the room. Bowing his head in respect of the souls of the first of the Tribe appeared before their large statues. When he lifted his head, the light had died down. Eyes drawn to the altar in the middle of the room, where he saw and smelled the bloody person laying on top of it. Desecrating the altar and what it meant.
Narrowing eyes that shifted through a spectrum of color before settling on red and black, he marched over and made to remove the person. His body froze in mid action at what he was seeing. Stomach bottoming out as his eyes roved over the curvaceous woman, who was battered, bleeding, dirty and very much unconscious. The magic he had felt earlier was gone, except for what radiated off this woman. As if it was a part of her. He knew this feeling, it was so similar, yet different, from what his later mother and those of the tribe gave off after maturing the final bit.
Feeling awe spread through his body, he heard the faint whisper of voices. Looking around he didn't see anyone but the spirit of the ancients. When he returned his gaze to the girl, he heard the voices again. They were full of worry and fear. Honing in he searched her mind and there he felt the owners of the voices. Heard them address each other by names. Names he knew. For they were the names of the Constellations, or specifically the Zodiacs. This meant that this girl came from the distant stars and her lifeforce was connected to them.
Fear entered into his mind, but he shoved it aside. He had a duty to fulfill. And finding this girl here would be problematic. There was no way he could lie to his leader, not with the control band on his forehead that made him loyal and dampened his powers quite a bit. Sighing, he carefully scooped the woman up and turned to leave. He noted that the spirits of the ancients were all smiling and bowing at him in passing. Making him feel as if he was forgetting something, something very important. With a small nod of his head as he walked out of the room, his large green wings unfurling the moment he left it.
He took to hovering again. Glancing down at his newly acquired unconscious bundle, he wondered what her fate would be. She was tiny for a female, even their smallest of their people the Nepticulid for moths, they stood at about five feet nine inches and the Pygmy Blue, which were about six feet tall. This girl, whoever she was strange at being what he was presuming barely five foot and some odd inches. Though he knew that no one was ever this curvy or soft to touch, even after their final maturing. And she'd stand out even more with what looked to be a golden-yellow hair under dirt and blood, on top of no wings at all.
TBC